


Conquer Us The Sun

by Kobayakawa



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Political Intrigue, Romance, Will be long, im a geography nerd, the war is not happening just because anankos felt like getting some lulz, will save my hip son takumi, writing is torture ahahaha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-01-20 08:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kobayakawa/pseuds/Kobayakawa
Summary: After being freed from the Northern Fortress, Corrin fights as a Nohrian War Princess in hopes of conquering the land blessed by the Dawn Dragon.This is a rewrite of Conquest that will diverge greatly from the original.Major changes include: Valla doesn't exist, neither does Anankos, the Yato or the other major magical weapons; Garon is not the embodiment of evil; Mikoto actually stays alive, and more.





	1. The Land the Dusk Dragon Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this one is gonna be a monster.  
> So, I love Fates, but in the story there's no shortage of contrivances, plot holes and inconsistencies in the dialogue. Most of those come from the Valla plotline, so I took it off completely to focus on other aspects of the story without having to worry about keeping up with the whole 'epic quest' motif.
> 
> The title of the first chapter is derived from the Touhou song 'The Gensokyo the Gods Loved'. It's a really beautiful track and I actually recommend you look it up on youtube and listen to it while reading this.
> 
> Anyway! Thanks for clicking here and I'd really appreciate any form of feedback, positive or negative.

The Northern Fortress; an ancient stronghold situated in between the black mountains of a vicious land. In days of old none could cross the northern border of Nohr without being seen by the watchful eyes of the wyvern riders that resided in the fortress.

Oh, but perhaps it is innapropriate to say that they resided in such stronghold when they all spent most of their days and nights in the mountain summits. Indeed, there was not a minute in which the narrow roads of the north went unwatched. And if an enemy was then spotted, most frequently a scout would be, it was only a matter of seconds before a wyvern descended upon them like the blood-hungry beasts they were trained to be. And if it was not the wyvern's teeth that lacerated the enemy's skin, then it most certainly would be the grandiose axes of their riders.

But that was centuries ago, long before Nohr had conquered all nations that would find any strategical advantages in invading from the north. Because of such, the Northern Fortress lost much of its practical use and became increasingly innocuous as the years went by, until eventually the King of a particular age decided that keeping any guards there was a waste of resources and relocated them all, leaving the ancient stronghold completely abandoned.

The once common sound of all manner of blades crashing against one another was then silenced for decades, but recently...

Recently it was reignited by a captive princess who was imprisoned in the Northern Fortress, for once she picked up a blade and wielded it in practice every day since, through health and through sickness.

Her obsession with sword art, however, was not her own. Because her Father, her captor, valued one's ability to overpower an opponent more than anything, the princess hoped to one day impress him and earn her own freedom.

And today, of all days, was Corrin's opportunity to impress.

In the training grounds the sound of crashing blades was as loud as it had ever been. She, firstly with a grace unique to royalty, fought against the crown prince, who sat astride a grandiose war horse and towered over her like Medeus towered over the Hero-King. She ran and jumped around him with movements so refined they could be mistaken for a dance, making use of every sword technique she could remember to try to best the prince. However, it was all for naught; regardless of her efforts Xander would either skillfully dodge her strike or block it with his own blade.

"You swing timidly, without resolve," said Xander, his voice stern and composed, meriting the wise teacher he had always been to her. "You must genuinely try to kill me."

Corrin was made to accept it then, how utterly pointless it was to attempt to best her opponent only by using technical skill. Xander had over a decade of more experience than she did; truly winning a battle against the crown prince was impossible in her present state. But then, she didn't have to win over him. Her freedom didn't hang over his loss, it simply hang over her striking his armor once. The armor of the most able paladin in all of Nohr.

Furrowing her brow, she blamed her foolish pride for telling her that today she ought to truly best her brother instead of simply hitting him once. It was pathetic of her to forget how weak she truly was when compared to him.

Corrin advanced towards him once again, now with all pretensions of grace forgotten, and she attacked like a barbarian. Her thought process was simple; since she couldn't strike him with pure technique, she would tire him with quick and successive attempts until he dropped his guard for only a moment, and then she'd seize the opportunity. Attacking like a mad woman as she was left countless openings for Xander to counter attack and take her down, but she trusted him not to; the princess knew very well how dearly he hoped she would pass this test, and knew their Father didn't say that he needed to make an effort to defeat her.

From the windows of all the black towers that surrounded the training grounds, servants and siblings of the two who fought below looked down at them with squinted eyes and sweaty palms. Elise, the youngest princess of all, held on tightly to the hands of Leo and Camilla, her brother and sister, who clenched their jaws and breathed heavily, occasionally whispering to one another that there was no need to fear, because _of course Corrin would make it through._ But as the minutes rolled by and the princess' every attempt was easily thwarted, they felt their hopes fading.

As the battle raged on, Corrin's wielding shoulder became sore, the hand that firmly held her sword trembled with exhaustion and apprehension and the muscle of her legs were reduced to a fragile state. The adrenaline that had numbed a pounding headache slowly subsided, and the pain intensified at every instance her blade crashed with Xander's or cut through the air.

_Eight years of practice, and I can't even strike his armor._

Time crawled through in a flash as Corrin's faculties failed her one by one; she couldn't even attack her brother with the same brutish fervor she had so naturally been able to utilize minutes ago. As the soreness in her arm worsened her swings became more careless, meriting someone unaccustomed with sword fighting, and every frustrated attempt at victory only added to the furtive moisture in her eyes. It clouded her vision, but she refused to wipe it away. Rubbing her arm against her eyes would show her fragile emotional state to those who watched from above and oh, how terribly humiliating would that be.

In cruel comparison, Xander moved with unparalleled grace. The gap in between their years of sword art was only of 12, but it was worth no less than an eternity, further extended by the battlefield experience of the crown prince, High General of the Nohrian Army. The only then present characteristic unbefitting of the one who would become King was his failure to keep emotion from his face, as his furrowed brow and clenched jaw only accentuated the conspicuous pity in his eyes.

It must've been luck then, that just before Corrin fell to her knees in defeat Xander opened his defences ever so minimally and allowed her to dent his armor. The direct impact made a strident sound that travelled to the windows of the black towers above, prompting all watchers to applaud and cheer. Corrin, however, was deaf to it all as she stared at Xander with wide eyes. There was a peculiar mixture of sadness and guilt in her brother's face. And though it only lasted for a second, the image was burned into her eyes.

"Congratulations, little princess," said Xander as he dismounted his war horse. "You have done well to earn your freedom. Tomorrow we may ride to Castle Krakenburg. Father will be very pleased to hear about your performance today."

Her brother's gentle voice calmed whatever worries his peculiar expression brought, and if he wasn't wearing such heavy armor Corrin would have most certainly embraced him firmly. Instead, she just smiled and turned around before waving at all those who watched from above.

☼

Dinner in the Northern Fortress that night was a joyful affair; Corrin insisted that all servants have a seat at the lavish dining room along with all the other royals and share in their banquet, as in the next day she would permanently leave for Windmire. The only one that didn't accept the offer was the butler Jakob, who "would be much more comfortable abiding by his duties".

"I never doubted you could do it, you know!" said Elise, jumping up and down her seat a bit, probably not even noticing it. "I admit I got a bit worried about an hour into it, though. I _swear_ I was about to have a heart attack or something! But anyways, now I can finally take you touring around Nohr! First Father is gonna want us to go to Castle Krakenburg and stuff, but after that's done I'm gonna take you around Windmire..."

Elise excitedly talked about tourist spots all around Nohr as Corrin listened on, her face sore for smiling so much since the end of the affair at the training grounds. Part of her actually wished to excuse herself for the night as she felt like her body had been run over by war horses, but the celebration was so merry that she couldn't quite bring herself to leave.

To Corrin's right, Camila hopelessly teased one of the maids, Felicia, by spoon feeding the poor girl while saying "Open up! Wyvern coming through," while caressing her pink hair. Corrin had been victim of the same torture up until a few minutes ago, so she just gave Felicia a pitying smile and mouthed _Sorry._ If she were to try to do anything else her sister would change her target to her again, and the last time Corrin liked getting that treatment she was five.

The causes were exhaustion and having her attention focused on her handful of sisters, but Corrin didn't notice her brother's behavior; Xander was strangely silent, mostly giving polite, short responses to all who spoke to him. Leo, who sat by his side, had a smirk in his face as he leaned close to his brother's ear and whispered "You did the right thing".

"You saw it, then," said Xander."Was it terribly obvious?"

"Oh no, not at all. I'm quite sure that even Camilla missed it, considering how warmly she praised Corrin."

"She couldn't have won," the crown prince fumbled with his fork mindlessly, uninterested in the food." Sword art was never among our sister's talents, and I am simply much more experienced than her."

"Well, don't let her know. I'm afraid her pride will be hurt beyond saving if you do."

☼

Later that night, in one of the higher floors of the fortress after most of the visitors and residents were sleeping, Xander stood in a silent corridor gazing at an open window. The sky was dark with storm clouds that hid stars and Moon, it had been all day long. Rain would come soon.

"Not in bed yet?" said Corrin as she silently walked towards him.

"Same question to you," said the prince, turning towards her with a gentle smile.

"Oh, I was going to. Then I saw that Camilla had already jumped on my sheets and I have been running away ever since. She's having one of her more motherly... _episodes._ "

A peaceful silent fell between the two of them. Xander still gazed outside, but Corrin observed his face. A golden lock hang over his cheek and she gently tucked it behind his ear. He grabbed her hand and held it softly against his face, drawing comfort from her warmth as he always had.

"Xander...did something happen? You haven't been yourself today."

"I'm sorry for worrying you, little princess," he let their hands fall from his face, but they stayed joined, gently caressing one another. "I concern myself with those at the Trail of Tears. I fear the most poor won't find better fate in the east."

The Trail of Tears; the path undertaken by those in the west in years of particularly bad harvest. The poor journey to the east in hopes of finding work in the mines, most commonly for the duration of autumn and winter, as most farmers choose to return to the west in spring instead of living their lives as miners. This is mostly due to the fact that the opportunities for labor in Nohr are so scarce that the nobles with control over the mines abuse their workers to an inhuman extent; they pay extremely low wages for work days that last 12 hours, and make no efforts to estabilish safety precautions for the miners, who more frequently work without helmets or gloves, which naturally leads to high mortality rates.

"Many of the major mines have collapsed during the most recent storms," continued the prince. "It may be years until they are profitable again. Makes you wonder why the Dusk Dragon gave us land this poor, doesn't it?"

Rain started to fall. If the rain was indeed brought by the nohrian draconic deity, one could see it as mocking Xander for his comment.

"I think of them, the miners in the east," said Xander. "Working in the rain, desperate. I wonder if it'll bring them sickness. If an outbreak of disease happened now, then we'd have no hopes of properly treating the sick."

"You're worrying about problems that don't exist, Xander."

"I am simply trying to prepare myself for anything that comes, my dear," said him, closing the open window. "I'd rather worry myself sick in preparation for disaster than be caught by surprise."

Corrin resigned and stayed silent. Any attemps to comfort him would be for naught.

☼

All royal siblings travelled to Windmire early the next day. The capital was located in the south, glorious city of red and yellow lights, not undiminished even in the rare days the Sun shed its light upon the land. It was the most impenetrable stronghold in the continent, a circle with only four entrances guarded by fortresses named after kings, that led down to four main avenues named after queens, with Castle Krakenburg where they met.

The castle itself was a sight to behold; built with the Dusk Dragon in mind, its walls were made of black obsidian as strong as the god's scales, and many of its grandiose rooms had enormous chandeliers made of red glass that shone like the god's eyes. Though large and endowed with many windows, it still felt oppressive, as if all who entered were observing the very insides of a dragon.

Upon arriving, the princes and princesses were sent to the throne room where their Father waited.

Garon was an imposing figure. There was a shining light in his own eyes that was reminiscent of the chandelier above and it forced straightness into the spine of each of his children. He carefully analysed them in search of any faults in their appearances, and after concluding there was none, he spoke, a human roar resounding. "Corrin, you have done well against Xander. You have proved yourself an able warrior." The princess in question smiled and curtsied. 

The King continued. "I trust all of you are perfectly aware of the opaque veil of hunger that covers our kingdom," through one of the open windows came a gust of wind that moved the red chandelier, almost as if the very Dusk Dragon concurred with Garon. "The collapse of the eastern mines have brought ruin to many of our people. Today, you stand in a land victim to unprecedented crisis. However, ruin need not wait for us!" The King's voice resounded ferociously through the room, completely enrapturing the attention of all. "We are Nohrians. We have survived in this bare land for centuries through conquest and blood, and if it becomes necessary for us to further command our continent to ensure the survival of our people, then we shall do so. To further discuss this matter a council has been assembled, and tomorrow all of you will participate in it."

Besides Elise, who furrowed her brow and clenched her jaw, all other siblings maintained a careful effort to show no emotion, though the prospect presented by their Father created chaos within their minds. With an order from Garon they turned around and silently left the throne room, leaving behind only Corrin and the King.

"Follow me," said him, moving towards one of the open windows that gave sight to the grandiose avenue of Queen Annabelle. From this high above, one could see an apparent infinity of small red and yellow lights on the streets below, well kept by nohrian magic. The fortress of King Seth stood like a beacon of fire in the horizon, bathing its surroundings in an ethereal glow.

"The foolish will tell you that stormclouds hide the stars of Nohr almost every night," said Garon, signaling the princess to look above. The sky was pitch black. "But it is the exact opposite, for no stormcloud can hide what is on the ground."

Corrin gazed at the King; the man was still stern, but his voice was calm, peaceful. Oh, true, his face betrayed no emotion, but the princess' sharp eyes could see a gentle light in his, almost as if his pupils reflected the city below.

"Past all hunger and fear, never forget the earthbound, starlit sky you see through this window tonight, for you are no longer a prisoner, but a nohrian princess. From this day forward, you must honor those beguiling lights and faithfully serve our kingdom."

The contrast of what was below and above was strangely enchanting, as if all stars that belonged in the sky fell to the land. A poetic heart could be made to believe such, and simply forget that this complex system of illumination naturally resulted from a kingdom trapped in almost perpetual darkness. But it is wonderfully poetic, isn't it, to think that, from having all starlight hidden from them, the nohrians created their own?

"I won't forget, Father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You already caught that, but I'll be messing heavily with some aspects of Nohr whenever the canon doesn't make much sense or doesn't translate well into prose, or just when I come up with something I think is nicer.


	2. Hands of Dead Soldiers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important stuff estabilished in this chapter. In the next one we pick up the pace!

Elise waited for Corrin outside of the throne room alone; the three other siblings had gone off to speak in private about the prospects of war. Little Elise was left behind, and she was very much glad to be kept out of war meetings.

”Corrin!” said she as soon as her older sister left the throne room. “What did Father wanted to talk to you about? Was he tough on you?”

”Oh, it was fine. Where are the others?”

”They went off to talk about tomorrow’s council. They thought you might end up talking with Father for a while,” Elise smiled widely and grabbed Corrin’s hand. “Let me show you around!” 

Corrin was pensive, concerned about who the King thought of conquering, and completely uninterested in her sister’s touring plan.

”I’m sorry, but I’d rather speak with the others about tomorrow’s assembly. Do you know where they are?”

Elise pressed her lips tightly together in a pout, but conceded to her sister’s wish.

Both princesses made their way through the long corridors of Castle Krakenburg for longer than Corrin thought would be necessary. As they walked, Elise chatted about the many portraits that adorned the castle’s walls. The monarchs of times past gazed upon them with their oil eyes, but even as paintings they were colossi; imposing dark figures holding axes, swords and tomes, sitting on golden chairs and dark warhorses.

Indomitable warriors, all those of the nohrian dynasty.

”Look, it’s Xander’s mom!” Elise pointed to a woman that wore a black crown adorned with a grandiose alexandrite. Below the portrait there was a plaque that read Queen Katerina, Beloved Mother & Queen.

Corrin had studied at length the story of the nohrian royal family and of Queen Katerina; once a baroness, she rose to be a most beloved monarch. Known for the black magic parades where she blended various spells to create lights that gave life to darkened cities, she was revered as Grand Sorceress.

However, past what one could learn from history books, Corrin knew nothing of Katerina or the other mothers of her siblings. She asked about them once, but her brothers and sisters were eager to change the subject.

Their evasiveness did nothing to sate her curiosity.

”Did you know her, Elise?”

”Nope. She had already died when I was born.”

As Corrin had expected, there was a certain uneasiness in Elise’s voice, and the older princess conceded to the unspoken wish; the subject was to be forgotten.

After the sisters arrived at the entrance of the room where Camilla, Xander and Leo sat, Elise left Corrin at the door and walked away quite quickly. The older princess let herself in and was greeted by the sight of her siblings sitting at a tea table.

”Ah, Father must’ve kept you,” said Camilla. “Did something happen?”

”I finished talking with Father a while ago, actually. It’s just that the lot of you picked a far away room to have tea in,” said Corrin, sitting at the table.

Leo snorted. “We are barely a minute away from the throne room,” said he. “Was it Elise or being trapped in a fort for so long destroyed all sense of direction you might’ve had?”

A maid silently poured Corrin her tea, and the princess giggled as she realized what Elise had done. “A bit of both,” said she. “I’ll try to spend some more time with the little trickster later.”

”You should learn the corridors of Krakenburg soon, little princess,” said Xander, “lest Elise decides to do this again. We soon might not have much time to entertain her.”

The good airs brought about by the youngest princess’ tricks subsided as Xander explained to Corrin her sibling’s thoughts regarding tomorrow’s war meeting.

Hoshizawa, a large territory in the eastern lands of Hoshido, was blessed with a most healthy land, and its yearly bounty is as rich as one can be. It stands close by the nohrian border, and taking it ought to be a simple case of a brutal and quick invasion. Garon had briefly spoken of it in the past, when Nohr suffered through previous food shortages. If there was one territory that Garon were considering conquering, then it would be Hoshizawa.

”But are we ready to start a war with Hoshido?” asked Corrin.

”I strongly believe we could manage invading Hoshido completely, but a colossal conflict is not necessary. We may simply conquer the province and negotiate peace afterwards,” said Xander.

”Would that solve the hunger issue? Even if we do win over Hoshizawa, by this point they have consumed a good deal of their harvest. Ah, and the eastern mines remain inaccessible.”

”Indeed. There is nothing we can do to immediately solve those problems. However, taking Hoshizawa guarantees that a crisis as severe as the one we face today will not happen again.”

Leo sipped his tea and massaged his forehead. Hours upon hours of organizing the army and strategizing were in front of him if Hoshido was Nohr’s next target. “I don’t know why we don’t just make a campaign for their capital and just wipe them off the map,” said he. “They’re politically unstable enough as it is, but I heard their Queen adores making heart churning speeches in public every weekend. Anyone could set up an explosive spell and take her out.”

Xander only sighed. “Leo, now is not the time for your jokes.”

”Why are they so unstable to begin with?” asked Corrin, swiftly ducking Camilla’s petting hand.

”The Queen is just a commoner with no political experience and no mind to learn. She has been reigning alone for almost two decades since King Sumeragi’s death,” said Leo with a devilish smile, “but she has thrown everything in her advisor’s hands. However, all those decades of peace and nice sunlight has weakened the administration. They generally just sit back and watch Hoshido run itself, and with low crime rates and rich land, it runs alright. Of course, this means they have no experience in managing crises. They wouldn’t know what to do in wartime.”

”Pure speculation,” said Xander. “The ones who rule Hoshido may be passive, but that is no reason to assume that they are foolish. In fact, I’d say that Hoshido’s decades of peace makes them more dangerous, it makes them unpredictable.”

Leo’s only answer to his brother’s remarks was one regarding overvaluing, which Xander then called caution. Camilla seemed bored by their discussion, and somewhat frustrated that she couldn’t manage to put her fingers in Corrin’s hair.

”So, have we decided if we’re alright with conquering Hoshizawa?” asked Camilla, slouching slightly.

”If those are indeed Father’s intentions, then I concur. We must safeguard our future,” said Xander. All siblings expressed their agreement and a silence befell the room.

Xander, Camilla and Leo already knew what a battlefield was; they had suppressed enough revolutions and taken enough land to know the vivid smell of flesh and blood burning, to know what is to greet a comrade in the morning only to see their entrails painting the ground red later in the day.

Though the three of them spoke of glory and of those who could be saved from famine if Hoshizawa was taken, their minds were silently chaotic with memories of slithering lives and soldiers far too young. The siblings shared similar memories, and so respected one another’s silence with kindness and understanding.

But Corrin knew nothing of war. That innocence of hers protected her willful heart from the hands of dead soldiers. When she thought of a battlefield she didn’t remember tragedies; in her mind there was only a sense of patriotism, strongly fueled by Garon’s words earlier in the day.

The princess had never laid eyes in the starving poor, had never seen a child’s bones peeking through their skin so clearly that one could think it would rip through it. She knew nothing of thirst like a cruel god’s claws in a poor devil’s throat. Regardless, she still felt an indomitable need to fight for all those who had little power of their own. Heroism!

And such heroism burned brightly at the thought that she was no longer a prisoner, but a nohrian princess in its truest sense. A title no longer nominal, and one she intended to honor.

☼

Leo told the story to Corrin as the royal siblings waited for the advisors to arrive at the assembly; in the distant past, Kings and Queens would wait for the Dusk Dragon’s glass red eyes to dance in the wind that came from the room’s enormous windows before any vital decisions were made. This custom had died long ago, however, when a wise monarch thought it ridiculous to leave Nohr’s fate to the changing winds.

”Do you really believe that it’s true?” asked Corrin. “That the Dusk Dragon controlled the winds?”

”I don’t,” said Leo, “because I believe our god is wise, and too many foolish decisions have been made based on our chandeliers.”

Corrin remembered reading about the subject long ago and thinking it silly too, but sitting at the enormous black table then, observing the room’s millenia old architecture and decorations, she could understand why those in the distant past believed that the Dusk Dragon would come to this very place to communicate with his people.

The entirety of Castle Krakenburg was strangely mystical, as if magic poured forth from its very walls like a dragon gently breathing.

She was pulled from her daydreams by Xander, who spoke of each man and woman that entered the room. Later on, he said, she would have to meet them all. Among them; Iago, an experienced practitioner of the dark arts, talented alchemist and close friend of the King. “Antisocial and possibly sadistic,” said the crown prince, “but a passionate patriot”. Another advisor was Hans, a general that “appeared in assemblies with the sole purpose of suggesting that the problem be beheaded”.

After the arrival of many others, and after Corrin started worrying she wouldn’t be able to remember their names, the King entered the room and sat at the most grandiose chair there was.

Garon needn’t ask for all to go silent; he enraptured the attention of all attendees simply by being. After assuring all eyes followed his every movement, the King spoke with flawless enunciation.

”As I believe you all know, seven of ten nohrian newborns do not survive past our long winter, be it from sickness or starvation. Oh, but for how long have we been quiet instead of aiding our children? The earth has been unkind to us, but we cannot allow for the suffering of our people to continue! We, dragon-blooded and blessed by a God, what are we if we simply stand still and watch famine consume our lands? Not us! We are not pitiful insects who simply accept the torture that fate brings us. We are nohrians – we challenge it! For this cause, today I reunite all of you to speak of conquest .“ 

Xander had been right – the King did indeed speak of invading Hoshizawa and taking its blessings. The strategy was: overtake Fort Kanno that stood by the nohrian border, and then use it as the army’s main base. Afterwards, it would be a rather simple case of moving further into hoshidan lands, conquering other four key fortresses and then negotiating peace.

”Father, how can we wage a war when our country is so frail?” asked Corrin unabashedly, for the surprise of all. “Should we not wait until spring comes and our food stocks are enough to feed our army?”

”No. This is the appropriate time,” said the King, most calmly. “A vital aspect of any given army is morale; when high enough a few dozen men can kill a god, and when low enough a few dozen gods can’t kill a man. The present desperation of our people will make them fight with the ferocity of savages. And you mustn’t fall into the trap of assuming that the next year’s harvest will be better than this year’s. It is possible that our army may be even more weakened if we wait.”

Garon spoke like a father and like a teacher, leaving Corrin embarrassed for asking what seemed to be such a silly question. She sunk into her chair, feeling like a fish out of water, but the event made her cling to the King’s every word even more. If he was willing to teach, then she would love to learn.

The campaign against Hoshizawa would be quick and brutal. New soldiers wouldn’t be recruited, but every man and woman at the disposal of the army would be dispatched. The offense would mostly be done by paladins and great knights, and mages would be used sparingly as their magic can greatly damage the land. To assure victory, all royal siblings would either join the frontlines or boost morale by mingling with the soldiers frequently.

Corrin had been curious as to why the court wouldn’t attempt to simply negotiate for Hoshizawa instead of going to war, but had not voiced her questions for fear of embarrassment. Alas, she was lucky enough to hear some sneering men joking about how the only way to treat hoshidans was with a weapon in hand, for “they wouldn’t give a breadcrumb to a starving nohrian baby”.

Such was the nohrian’s sentiments when it came to hoshidans; unkind weaklings who would have long ago been wiped out had they not been blessed with sun-kissed land. Selfish insects who didn’t deserve their own riches.

Corrin wondered whether all her comrades hatred had been born out of envy, or if there was a more complex reason. Oh, there probably was. An entire population didn’t simply hate another out of pettiness. 

The assembly ended after all present voted for and against waging war. Well, no one actually voted against it. If there was anyone who truly was contrary to such prospects, then the powerful gaze of the King and others at the table silenced any possibility of voiced opposition.

☼

A proper war meeting was held later on in the day, though Corrin didn’t participate in it. Only the King, his generals and strategists had a seat at the table, so the princess was left to her own devices in the training grounds. She would have asked for the company of Xander or Leo if she believed they could come, but since they couldn’t and Camilla sparred against her as if she was a delicate doll, Corrin chosen to train by herself.

Her blade moved gracefully, slashing through the air and at times even singing. Strangely enough, though she was training to kill, the activity was calming. There was a very peculiar peace that could only be found when holding a blade, and Corrin took joy in it. In particular, she enjoyed sword art so refined that it seemed more a dance than a proper attack.

”You seem to be having way too much fun, dear sister.”

Corrin turned around to see Leo smirking. “Oh, hi. Is the meeting done already?”

”Pretty much so. We’re not going to be using any fancy strategies, just the classic run-and-kill method.”

”I can barely believe we’re actually going into a war,” said Corrin, putting away her bronze sword. “I picked just the right time to be freed, huh?”

”Oh, the tensions with Hoshido have been running hot since long. No doubt that Father was itching to invade for years now. But it’s about time. The hoshidans always had it coming.”

”I actually heard some of the advisors talking about hoshidans on the assembly today. Said that they wouldn’t give food to a starving child. Seems kind of exaggerated, but—“

”Exaggerated?” Leo furrowed his brow. “Didn’t you hear what Father said today? Our children are dying and they know it, but we’re still starving, aren’t we?”

Corrin was at a loss for words, and the prince sneered. “Hoshidans don’t give out anything. They close themselves in their little paradise and don’t let anyone in. They only want to be a self-sufficient nation, rest of the world me damned.”

The princess fidgeted, somewhat disconcerted. It wasn’t rare for Leo to show annoyance, but she had never before seen him quite so affected by a subject.

”Well, hopefully we can make peace one day, and reach an agreement that helps both nations.”

”I wouldn’t be so hopeful, sister.”

Corrin would’ve said more, but her thoughts were interrupted by a loud, inhuman scream that came from the castle’s east wing. Immediately the princess picked up her bronze sword again, but Leo stopped her with his stretched arm before she could run to where the sound came from.

”No need to run. Those are the Faceless screaming. Sometimes Iago is a bit tough with them.”

”Faceless?” asked Corrin, wide-eyed but more calm than she had been a moment ago. If Leo said there was no need to go, then there wasn’t.

”Soldiers turned into beasts. Quite a force in our army,” said the prince, but his sister still seemed confused. “In recent years our army has been weakened by famine. As a way to fight that particular problem, soldiers can offer their corpses to live as Faceless and go on fighting after death. Most do, since their families still get payment for their work.” Leo waved his hand toward the east wing. “Iago is the one who cares for them.”

”So they become monsters? Who would ever accept that?”

”They don’t become monsters. They die, and then they offer their bodies to house monsters. The Faceless don’t eat or think, they’re just mindless puppets. There’s nothing of the past soldier left in them.”

Corrin was silent for a moment. The thought of some kind of beast overtaking her body was terrifying, but then, the soldiers did accept to go through with it, didn’t they? It was their choice, made with their loved ones in mind. “Still, couldn’t Iago be more gentle with them?” asked she.

”I’ve talked with him about it before, he just said there’s no need. The screaming is just a physiological reaction to some of the...” Leo waved his hands about, trying to find an appropriate word for Iago’s activities. “…tests. The Faceless don’t have a soul, so they can’t actually feel pain. There’s no need to give them pity.”

The atmosphere was somber and Corrin had lost interest in training. She said goodbye to her brother and they parted ways. Him, to the war room, and her, to wander about Castle Krakenburg’s empty halls. After a while, however, she let her curiosity guide her steps to the east wing.


End file.
